Planes of Destruction
by Quaker nuts
Summary: Many say that there are many planes of existance. What if this were not only true, but also possible to access these other "planes". What if we could travel to these other realms? Wouldn't it be just great to see a different you? Maybe not so much...
1. Prologue

You see double of this first sentence because the editor on fan fiction is being stupid for me for whatever reasons

_You see double of this first sentence because the editor on fan fiction is being stupid for me for whatever reasons. This is only the prologue, and is just a taste of what is to come. _

**Prologue**

The inside of the bunker was barely lit, casting eerie shadows on the walls that seemed to reach for you as you passed by. The walls were made of solid Grantite, a harder substance than concrete. The Grantite was smooth to the touch, and felt like you could break it in half with your fingers, but nothing except the strongest of weapons could even hope to penetrate the Grantite. A lone man walked down the hallway; a pulse rifle on his back and a lit igniter in his mouth; similar to a cigarette, without the nicotine or smoke. It was a safe way to relax tense muscles; however they were reserved for military use and the wealthy only, due to manufacturing problems.

The man was clothed in a red body suit of the Anarchic Cooperative, or AC, with his helmet off. His chest plate was sparkling clean, and flexed to fit his specific body structure. There were black stripes down the sides of the suit, with dimly glowing white lights along the line. On his left, right above his heart, was a glowing name tag. Sergeant Arden Snyder walked slowly, looking sadly at the walls around him. He had been here for ten years now, and the depressing atmosphere around the place seemed to age him past his years. His hair was a brown distinguished with grey, and his brown eyes projecting a long sadness, followed by the creases of age upon his face. His entire expression was one of boredom, tiredness and sadness. As he made his way forward, there was a booth over to the side, with another soldier, who was busy watching sports on the vid-screen. There were two other soldiers standing at ease off to either side of the hallway. The soldier inside had his feet up on an old wooden desk, with his helmet lying off to the side. Arden walked in, placing the igniter in the recycler as it beeped its usage empty. He walked to the man, and looked at the screen. All they ever had down here was sports from years past, and the soldier was busy watching major league baseball. Arden shook his head, and placed his hand on the soldier's shoulder. "Don't you ever get tired of that shit Hayden?"

Without looking back, Hayden shook his head, making his long red hair fly around slightly. "It's the only thing to watch, so why should I get tired of it?" Arden sighed, and walked around him to the desk. Despite the lack of regulations down here, record of patrols was always kept under tabs. Arden tapped a holographic button on the desk, and a transparent sheet came before him. He wrote his name with his finger, and then wrote the time. He tapped the accept button, and the sheet disappeared. Arden walked around Hayden, who still had his eyes glued to the vid-screen. He walked out the door, and gave a courteous nod to the soldiers as he passed. He still had another half a route to go before he could relax in the outpost. He started down the hallway, a couple soldiers passing him as he went.

Walking down the hallways, he lit another igniter for himself, and went through his thoughts yet again. He still had another ten years before he could get out of this hell hole. While he guessed it was better than being in threat of getting killed, he would prefer frontline duty to this. They were just told what to do, and not ever question it. Arden shook his head, and looked around. What he wouldn't give for even the tiniest window of sunlight to come down. His skin was deathly white from being the depths of the bunker for so long. He even pitied soldiers like Hayden, who were just beginning their tour here. They still had another nineteen years to go here.

Out of force of habit, he slipped his pulse rifle from his back, and checked the energy cell. Of course it was fully charged, but he did it to get everything off his mind for a brief few moments. He looked down the scope, which automatically conformed to his specific skull structure; fitting around his eye perfectly. It made the entire hallway turn a light shade of red, and a targeting reticule was in the middle. The rifle itself was painted red to acknowledge it belonged to the AC, and was a small, but powerful weapon. The energy cell was loaded into the side of the weapon; it fired off concentrated lasers powerful enough to rip a hole the size of his fist in an unarmored target. Its nozzle was slightly bulky, but was needed to concentrate the laser itself. He lowered the weapon, and looked around yet again. No matter how long he had been here, he could not get used to the fact of not seeing a window.

His mind continued to wander for the remainder of the patrol, accounting for ten minutes. As he made his way back, he was glad that he would finally be able to kick back, and laze around the rest of the day, or at least, he suspected it was day. He rounded the last corner, and found that the two guards that had been there earlier were gone. He shrugged it off, the others would usually ditch post for awhile to go get a drink or just wander. As he made his way in the office, he was surprised to see that Hayden was gone. Usually the soldier waited for Arden to get back before he went on patrol. Arden shrugged that off as well, he was not the kid's father, and Hayden could go where he pleased on this level. Arden walked over to a set of lockers on the far side of the locker, and put his eye up to the scanner. It read his retina, and opened his locker for him.

The inside was quite bare, other than two things, it was completely empty. His helmet was set down at the bottom of the locker, and a single photo was on the shelf at the top. He set his rifle in the locker, and took out the photo. He had taken the photo right before he had entered the bunker; it was his only remaining memory of the topside world. The sun was setting in the distance, overshadowing a set of rolling plains. It was one of the most beautiful things that Arden had seen, and he did not want to lose it. He went to the desk, and brought up the same sheet to mark his time. Once he was done, he went to the same seat Hayden had been sitting in, and made himself comfortable. He tapped a button on the seat, and the T.V. came on. What he saw, was not what he expected.

Someone had switched the television to the security cameras on this level, and usually there was an assortment of soldiers patrolling, but in this case, there was not a single soldier. Arden leaned closer to the screen. "What the fuck?" He tapped a button on his right shoulder. "Ben? Carlos? Patrick? Hayden? Where the hell are you guys?" He waited a moment, but there was no response. He tapped it again, and repeated himself, but again there was no response. He got up, but just as he did, he caught the slightest motion on camera five. Had he not been intently looking at the screen, he might have missed it. It was so quick, he wasn't even sure it had even happened at all. He backed up slowly from the vid-screen, and went to his locker. He quickly opened it, donned his helmet and rifle. The helmet was a slender thing with a darkened slit of glass for the eyes. The helmet had hidden air holes to allow breathing, and also had an oxygen supply for up to ten minutes. Whatever was happening here, it was not natural. He checked the cameras once more, but saw nothing but empty halls. He double checked which camera he had seen the motion from, and walked out of the office.

He wandered through the halls, his rifle in his hands, carefully making his way forward. The camera that had recorded the motion was about a five minute walk from the office, and there had not been a single soul from the office to the destination. His radar integrated into the bunker's motion sensor system had not picked up any movement other than his own. The more he walked, the more he got freaked out. Something strange was happening here.

Finally he arrived at the camera, and was greeted by more nothing. The camera was a simple blue dot high on the wall to his left, and was barely visible. Yet, even as he walked around the hall, he knew that he had seen something move here. It was impossible that what he saw could be a glitch. He wandered around scratching his head. There was no one anywhere, and it seemed like he was the last man down here. It was something he was not comfortable with.

He heard a tap behind him, and whirled around in a crazed fashion, bringing his rifle to bear. There was more nothing, but he was certain he had heard something. The bunker's motion sensors had yet to pick up anything else other than him, and the entire atmosphere was starting to get to him. Then the world seemed to phase in and out, like a vid-screen switching channels. At first he thought he was hallucinating, and then he saw more soldiers. They kept fading in and out, as if they were holograms, yet he knew these soldiers were the ones from the office. He could barely make out what they were saying.

"Are you sure that there was something on the camera? I'm still seeing nothing on the radar, and there's nothing in front of me."

"_I'm sure I saw something, just keep checking."_ Came the familiar voice of Hayden as he communicated to the soldiers.

The soldiers sighed, and walked around some more. After about another minute, the soldier tapped his communicator to say something, but stopped. "Did you see that?" asked the first one.

"Yeah I saw it? It was just a blip, but it was definitely there." They wheeled around, and checked their six, but relaxed as they saw nothing.

"I know I saw something." The soldier tapped his communicator. "Hayden, are you getting anything else on the cameras?" He waited a moment, but there was no answer. He repeated himself. "Hayden, you there?" There was nothing, and then there was a great burst of static from the comm. unit and then nothingness.

"What the hell was that?" The second asked, but they didn't get a chance to respond as the lights started shutting off.

"What the fuck?" The first one said as they were enveloped by darkness. There was a sound like finger tapping, and then the lights came back on. The soldiers were nowhere to be seen. Arden tried to walk closer, but as he did the vision got blurred. He stopped, looking for the soldiers, but finding none.

Suddenly a black…thing came out of nowhere lunging at him. Arden screamed and fell to the ground firing his rifle. His eyes were slammed shut, but he managed to open them. The vision was gone, and so was whatever tried to kill him. Something had taken his soldiers, and he knew he had to get some help down to them. He slowly got up, and looked back towards the office. He started walking, and then heard a slight pop behind him. He looked behind to see the lights all shutting off. He froze in fear, realizing that whatever took the soldiers was in the darkness. He snapped himself out of it, and ran with as much energy as he could back towards the office.

He reached the office, and brought up the transparent sheet again; this time touching the button 'Problems and Issues". He immediately touched the button marked 'Downcast'. Downcast was their immediate emergency code, it was to be used only in the most dire of situations. The screen started recording.

"This is Sergeant Snyder issuing a downcast warning. Something has taken all the soldiers on the fifth level of bunker 9811, and has probably done so for the rest of the levels. I have no clue what it is, but it's hiding in the shadows! The lights are all shutting off, it's following me! Just send help, please! I probably won't be alive when you get this message, but please respond to this message! Help us!" The poping sound of the lights returned, the lights slowly following the sergeant. He quickly tapped a few more buttons, and sent the recording to his superiors. He then ran out of the office towards the emergency elevator.

As he ran, he heard the popping noise get more frequent, and made the mistake of looking back. What he saw took his breath away.

He saw his fellow soldiers looking like they were screaming in immense amounts of pain, they were sort of blurred and in a hazy circumstance, but he was sure that was what he saw. He thought he could make the outline of some sort of thing, but he had no idea what it was. The lights were shutting off faster, and he knew he wasn't going to make it to the elevator. He took off his helmet, and ran with it tightly gripped in his hand.

As he rounded the corner, he saw the elevator, open and ready to receive occupants. The elevator had been opened on the downcast emergency call, but even if he made it to the elevator, the thing would follow him inside. He needed to at least prepare whoever would come with what he saw. He threw his helmet into the elevator in a last ditch effort, and saw it bounce into the elevator. He raised his rifle above his head, and threw it at the controls, smiling as it hit home on the up arrow. He reached the metal door just as the darkness overwhelmed him. He turned around, and looked up.

Sergeant Snyder didn't even have time to scream.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

A young lady with a slender form and beautiful features sat behind her metallic desk, tapping away silently on the hologram sheet. He brown hair with blond streaks rested on her shoulders with the bangs covering one eye. Her green eye that wasn't covered rapidly went back and forth over the sheet, measuring the income and the sales of the business; the business being one of the most powerful mercenary corporations in the world; Liberty Legion. The organization was a group of highly trained and highly paid men and women who would take on any job, for any price. It was one of the main reasons they became so powerful, almost to the point where the governments of the world would not be able to touch them if they did not so wish it. Her eyes darted back and forth until another sheet popped up beside her. She read it carefully, then read it carefully a second time to make sure what she was reading was true. She hesitated slightly, then stood up from her hovering chair, and walked behind her.

A giant set of double doors stood before her, and she pressed her palm onto the pad in the center of the door, a voice came on over the other end. "What is it Grace? I'm kind of busy at the moment." She bit her lower lip, and hesitantly answered the question.

"I got a new job, this one is from AC." Her voice soft and almost fearful.

There was no answer for a brief amount of time, before the giant doors swung open. Inside there was a vast glow from a wall filled with vid-screens going over the news from each country. Before the vid-screens sat a formidable looking man, staring at Grace as she entered with twin bionic eyes. The eyes glowed red, and shifted slightly as the man looked around. He stood up, revealing his broad frame, and his muscular arms and legs. He walked around the metallic desk filled with holo-sheets, and stood before the Grace; who looked down at her metallic blue dress before the man. The man looked down at her, and placed his finger under her chin, which was nearly the size of her chin. He was easily twice the size of the girl.

"Tell me Grace, what does AC want this time? More of our men killed?" Grace looked down again, tapping at a control panel latched onto her forearm, and brought up the sheet.

"You tell me. Whatever it is, it must be important to try and send a contract here after the last one." Grace grimaced as she remembered the mutilated remains of John and Kasey returning to the Tower. The man looked at the screen and his face shifted to anger as he read it. He then swatted his hand through the holo-sheet, and walked to his desk with his hand over his mouth. Grace waited patiently as he placed his hands on the desk, thinking. "Is there something wrong Mr. Neal?" Neal shook his head, and turned to face Grace.

"They send their contracts here in an effort to try and get my men, our family to try and fix their problems for them!? They have to be the stupidest politicians I have met, and trust me, I've met a lot!" Neal turned away again, and went to an iron wall. The wall separated as he drew near, and he got a great view of Rising Hope. The city had originally been named Jusak, but was renamed after the Great War of 2189, where the soldiers of the 112th regiment of the West managed to hold back an enemy advance of the East twice their size.

Grace looked over the sheet again, and gasped. Neal turned around, and cocked his head to the side. "Have you seen what they're paying?" Neal walked over, and checked the sheet. His face showed no emotion, but it was clear he was surprised at the price as well. Whatever was down in this 'bunker 9811' it must have been important for them to justify paying that amount. He rubbed his chin thoughtfully as he paced the office. The office itself was decorated with mercenaries long fallen, collections of the most personal items to that mercenary, so that they would not be forgotten. The only mercenaries that got a place in Neal's office were those who had done many jobs, and performed beyond what they were called for; honoring not only themselves, but the company as well. Finally he turned to Grace.

"Get Grim in here."

A man waited patiently as the anti-gravity lift took him up to the fortieth floor. He was clothed from head to toe in jet black armor, capable of blending into the lightest of shadows. His armor was double the thickness of regular military armor, yet twice as flexible. The armor was fitted to his exact body measurements, and could only be properly worn by him. It was nearly skin tight, yet could stop up to five pulse rifle shots dead center. His helmet was all black, except for the front. The front of the helmet had a perfectly crafted skull with huge reds eyes where he could see out of, and a stitched mouth. The skull was grey, with slight pocket marks in it. His modified pulse rifle slung over his side, a standard rifle except with the addition of an old flashlight and shotgun attachment. The shotgun attachment would fire off multiple lasers with less concentration than that of a pulse rifle; on the right side of his hip hung a Rip Jack; a sleek sidearm which resembled a curved blade. It fired off sizeable blades at subsonic speed towards the target. The blades were not quite strong enough to penetrate armor, and so were used mainly against unarmored targets. On the left side of his hip, slung a Penetrator; a powerful combat knife which, when activated, heated to incredible temperatures and could sear right through armor.

Finally the man reached the top, and was gently placed on the floor. Ahead of him was a metal desk with Grace sitting there. She looked up, and smiled from behind the desk. "Hi Grim, go right on in, he's waiting for you." Grim nodded, and made his way across. At twenty, she was way too damn young to be doing this work, but her dad was the boss, so he didn't question it. He walked up to the door, and instead of placing his palm in the center of the door, he pounded on it several times and waited. The door finally opened, and Grace looked at him like a mother would at a boy who was stealing a cookie from the jar. "There is a pad there for a reason." She scolded.

"Yeah, for decoration." Grim said in a voice that revealed a tired and bored man. Grim walked in, and stood a few feet from the desk. Neal looked up and smiled.

"Lucius Callisto"

"Let's keep it to Grim." Lucius said; his voice void of all emotion. Neal smiled even wider, and walked around the metal table to Grim.

"Fine, but you will remember to remove your helmet while in my presence." Grim hesitated, and then finally lifted the helmet off of his head; the red eyes of the skull dimming to black as the helmet was removed; revealing underneath an old, tired man. His hair was glistening silver, and his eyes radiated a fire long since burned out. His face had the creases of age, and there was no humor to be found in his face. His skin was deathly white from spending so much time in the helmet, and scars and healed wounds riddled his face. Neal just smiled wider.

"That's better. Now, I know you know why you have been brought up here." Neal said returning to his desk and holo-sheets.

"Either for termination, or a job. Either one would suit me fine." Grim answered without any sarcasm added at the statement.

Neal just smiled yet again and shook his head. "You know you're our most senior mercenary, but even so, you're one of our best. I need you for this one because I doubt any of the others would be able to handle it."

"Same story over and over again. Get to the point."

Neal didn't recoil at this rude outburst. When you had the age and experience of Grim, you were pretty much the one in power there. Neal looked at the holo-sheet again.

"It's from the AC; they sent a contract here ten minutes ago. Normally, I wouldn't even look at it, but the price they're offering could set up a man for five lifetimes." Grim nodded at the paper, and Neal sent it to Grim's wrist pad. It flashed up instantly, and Grim read it carefully.

_From: Director Boris Kirk of Anarchic Cooperative_

_To: Colonel Dirk Neal of Liberty Legion_

_Authorization Code 287654-Alpha clearance_

_We, of Anarchic Cooperative, have yet another job for your soldiers to undertake. We realize that after the last…encounter that your men had with the last one, that you are less than happy to even look this sheet over. However, this mission is not like the last. It will be a simple reconnaissance mission with ample reward. Here are the details:_

_At 9:49 am, we received an emergency signal from one of our bunkers, 9811, on the fringes of Republic Domains territory. The call was made from a desperate sergeant in charge of a small group of soldiers on level five. He quoted that something was in the shadows and that it was following him. The call was cut short, and all further contact from the bunker was lost. All attempts to reach the bunker were halted by the Republic Domain's Minister, who thought that the Anarchic Cooperative was planning a military advance. The bunker goes down for multiple levels, and is said to be researching –data missing- End of details._

_What we would like to happen here, is to have one of your soldiers head up to the bunker, and investigate. The soldier will stop at checkpoint 7 on his way there to get clearance for all levels of the bunker, and then be taken directly there. Since you will most likely use an agency vehicle, the Republic Domains will not suspect a military advance. Payment is as follows should you accept. _

_Payment: 100 million _

_Address: Directly into Liberty Legion's account at successful end of mission_

_Accept Decline_

Grim looked over the sheet very carefully, and looked up at Neal. "Something isn't right here. Some of the data is missing, and they wouldn't do that if there wasn't something down there." Neal stood up slowly.

"This is the main reason why I'm sending you down there Grim. You will go down there, accomplish the mission, and get anything that could be useful in blackmailing the AC. Those bastards deserve everything that they have coming to them after what happened at YellowCrest." Grim nodded, and touched the 'accept' button. The sheet disappeared, and a map displayed in front of him. It showed his current location as a green arrow, and his destination as a blue circle. Grim put away the map, and looked up at Neal.

"So I get in there, accomplish the mission, and get any dirt I can on the AC bastards. Seems easy enough, but something isn't right about this. It just doesn't feel right."

"Trust your gut Grim; it's always served you well over the past." Grim nodded and walked out. As he stepped out, the doors closed behind him. Grace looked up at him with a youthful smile.

"Did you accept it?" Grim nodded, and looked down at the girl; he was old enough to be her grandpa. Her expression than went serious, and she looked directly into Grim's eyes, even as he continued to stare straight ahead. "I know you didn't take that contract simply to get the money, what else do you guys plan to do?"

Grim replaced his helmet, the red eyes glowing as the helmet locked into place. He looked over at her slightly. "We plan to get paid." He then strode to the anti-grav lift, and went down.

Grim walked through the basement of the building, regularly referred to as the 'Blood Barracks'. Mainly because when mercenaries came back from a contract, unless they were really good, they came in spreading blood on the walls, the floor, and the ceiling. A few service droids had been tasked with cleaning the blood, but they were fighting a losing battle.

Grim walked confidently down through the relatively open space. The entire basement was one room, but was split up into four sections. One section was for training, with more service droids programmed for training purposes along with firing simulators and drill mercenaries to train the new recruits. Another section was the garage area, with the bat like Darts, and the massive BallWings. The Darts were modernized aircraft for carrying small amounts of people to and from places at high speeds.

The BallWings were massive tank-like machines with anti-grav engines instead of treads or wheels. They were capable of going over any terrain, and at a decent speed. The packed a plasma cannon on the front, backed up by firing ports and automated sprayer guns which spewed radioactive materials at any nearby enemy. This was the machine that was called when brute force was the only option.

Another section of the Blood Barracks was the medical bay, which was never full. Liberty Legion only trained the best, but even the best got hurt. There was a few hovering healing beds, along with mechanical arms sorting through and documenting all of the drugs and stimulants.

The last section of the Blood Barracks was the armory; filled head to toe with any weapon that has been created, along with those of their own creation. There was a service droid stationed there at all times as well, and the entire area was filled with mercenaries. Darts constantly flew in and out with mercenaries on contracts, and the training area was going full fledged. The medical area held two people sporting burns from pulse rifles, and the armory had a line up of twelve people.

Grim walked through all the people, who gave him a polite nod as he passed. He was the oldest mercenary in the entire company, and he had long ago earned everyone's respect. Mercenaries old and young looked to him for guidance and advice, which he only gave if he deemed they really needed it. Grim walked into the garage, where a small Caucasian was working on a Dart that was different from the others. Its bat like wings had been painted black with red tips instead of the company colors of blue and gold. The cockpit glass had been painted a see through black, but at a distance, the enemy would not be able to see through it. Rocket pods had been attached to the underbelly, and the inside had been stripped of any comfort items. In place was a recharger for the pulse rifle cells, along with numerous first aid dispensers. The small man looked up from behind his armored mask, and stopped the cutter. He lifted the helmet, his face a mixture of organic and metallic implants. His bottom jaw being completely metal with a dull finish, and the left half of his forehead was a metal implant. His face was marked with surgery scars, and he met Grim with a growl. "No way in hell are you taking this thing out for another one of your joyrides! She's had enough shit taken out of her, and I've barely had time to give her a look over!" The young man yelled without any fear in his voice. Grim stood there taking in the words, but refused to move. They stood there at a standstill for a moment, before the man spoke again. "Enough is enough, and that is final!" He turned away from Grim, who then decided to speak.

"AC" The man stopped, and turned around yet again; his face a mixture of confusion and shock.

"You have to be kidding." Grim just stood still as the man looked Grim over for any sign of a joke, but there was none. He sighed, and looked down at the cutter in his hand. "Fine, fine, fine! If she comes back with even a scratch though, your ass is mine."

"Considering it's my ship, I highly doubt that Troy." Troy stopped just short of a retort and his face flushed. Grim pushed past him and went to the back of the Dart. He pushed a screen on the side, entered a password, and the hatch slid down, and he walked in.

The inside was bare, with a brownish tint to the metal walls of the interior. Other than a couple wooden benches fastened to the wall, a recharger, a first aid dispenser, and a wall filled with an assortment of guns, the inside was empty. Normally it held comfortable seats, drink dispensers, and every other sort of comfort item for the mercenaries. However, this wasn't a company Dart; it was Grim's personal ship for transportation and raiding. He had no need for such comfort items, and neither did the other mercenaries.

He walked to the front of the dart, and sat down in the cockpit. The seat had been specifically fitted to stand him sitting in the seat with his armor, and he started the engine. The engine came to life with a mighty roar, and the entire ship lifted off the ground a few inches.

"_Keep to your left, and you may exit when ready_." Came the voice of the air traffic controllers for the garage. Grim flicked a few switches, and a pad came to life to his right. He placed his hand on the pad, and moved it upwards slowly. The Dart rose slowly. Another pad came to life on his left, and he placed his hand on that as well. He moved his left hand to the left, and the Dart moved slightly to the left. Then he quickly forced his right hand up, while keeping his left hand to the left and up. The Dart shot out of the launching bay, and into the bright sunlight of the outside world.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

The Dart had been put on autopilot, and Grim had made his way to the bench in the holding area. Between missions, he liked to stay back there, and enjoy what little rest there was between missions. He flicked a switch on his helmet, and a full screen came on inside his helmet. The news was the only thing he watched mainly because it directly affected his work. Who they work with, what sort of jobs, when hey might happen, etc.

A middle aged woman came on, and was stating what was happening out in the Middle East. Grim immediately shut it off, and shrugged. If they were talking about the Middle East, then there was nothing going on in today's world. The Middle East had been torn into a radioactive wasteland during the last Great War between East and West. The years before the war had been tense to say the least. With the last of the oil reserves depleted, people had turned to Trinium, a new resource founded by professor Ila Chase. Trinium was the world's savior in terms of energy. It was man made, and renewable. It was a limitless source of energy and fuel. However, at the finding of this new resource, it had been a battle to see who could get the most plants to make the resource. For whoever had the most plants, had the most power. East and West had been duking it out politically to get a hold of the powerful mineral.

No one knew who fired the first shot. Some say it was it was the West in an effort to scare the East into submission. Others say it was the East trying to kill the Western leader to get a hold of the plants in the area. Whatever the case, a nuke landed in the middle of the Pacific Ocean, causing a panic and creating what was now known as the Great War. The war had raged for fifty years before finally coming to an end, and Grim had been there for thirty years of them. Working for both sides of the world for whoever paid him the most. At the end of the war, the Middle East had been riddled with nukes, creating a radioactive wasteland, Russia had been a heavy war zone for the entire war, and America had been ravaged by land to land missiles and political arguments about what to do. In the end, neither side won, it was declared a standstill. Neither side could continue to stand the pace at which the war was going. Both sides were so weak in fact that an uprising happened all over the world. In order to avoid public execution at the up risers, the government officials of the world offered to disband any government activity if they could come up with a way to still maintain control over the countries. Right then and there the territories were formed.

Powerful companies of many different brands used their money to get into power. From tobacco companies to Para-military companies. Several companies took over as the ruler, and forced the once united East and West into different Territories. The Anarchic Collective, Republic Domains, Brotherhood of Fists, Independent Nations, Commonwealth, Democratic Coalition, and the Territory Syndicate. The AC, Republic, and Brotherhood had taken up residence in the West, while the rest fought over the East. Even now, the world was still tense, with yet another war just waiting over the horizon. It was only a matter of time until someone decided they had enough and fired a shot at one another. There were many smaller companies raging for power, but were simply too weak to be given notice.

Grim got up, and walked to the cockpit, where he sat in the first chair. He had nothing better to do other than wait to get to this checkpoint 7. From there, he would learn of what he was dealing with, but with the AC, you never knew.

"Sir, we have an incoming unregistered aircraft. Looks like that of a Dart class 2." Lieutenant Michael Eaton strode over the young officer who had made the call. She quickly made her fingers go over the holo-sheets in an effort to contact the craft. Michael put a hand on her shoulder.

"Don't worry; we've been expecting this one. Landing pad one, and don't worry about a reply." She hesitated slightly, and then got straight to work. Everyone in the small command post trusted Lieutenant Eaton with their lives. Eaton wasn't even a very imposing figure. He stood at a short 5'3, and had the face of a pit bull. He was by no means a handsome person, yet he had stood unwavering through the last ten years of the Great War, and it was that reputation that had gotten him this respect. He strode out of the command post towards landing pad one.

When he had gotten there, there was already a security detail there, and the Dart was just landing. It was unlike anything he had ever seen. Completely black except for the tip of the wings which were coated a blood red, and heavily armed. Whoever had gotten this ride either had a lot of money or a lot of respect. Maybe even a bit of fear mixed in there. The Dart finally landed with it's loading ramp aimed towards them. The Security detail shifted slightly, ready to pounce at the slightest movement. Michael just stood there, confident that whoever was in there was not here to kill them. The panel opened slightly, and out walked a monster.

His armor was also black, with red eyes glowing from the skull painted on his helmet. He was heavily armed and armored, and looked like he could take out anyone there. Yet Michael kept his cool. If he wavered before this man, then his men would also. He would not let their reputation be ruined by the mere presence of one man. Plus, if Michael was correct, this man would be less than happy to be here. He strode forward to the mercenary, and stopped a few inches from him.

"Lieutenant Eaton, head of Checkpoint 7." He put his hand out to shake, but the red eyes simply bore into Eaton's head.

"I'm not here for pleasantries Lieutenant. I'm here to get a job done, and the faster you can get me my information and pass card, the faster I can get away from you." The lieutenant lowered his hand, barely keeping his anger from surfacing. Who was this man, and who did he think he was? Michael simply nodded, and did an about face, and starting striding away. He could tell by the muffled thumps that the mercenary was following. The security details were right behind them, so he was confident that the mercenary wasn't going to try anything. At least, he didn't think he would try anything.

Michael led the mercenary into the command center, and to the credit of his men, they only took a second to take in the mercenary before getting back to work. He walked to the center of the room to his personal workstation, and brought up a huge holo-sheet at the front of the room. The entire room dimmed, and a feed came on. An old sergeant stood before the screen, and looked like he was ready to shit his pants.

"_This is Sergeant Snyder issuing a downcast warning. Something has taken all the soldiers on the fifth level of bunker 9811, and has probably done so for the rest of the levels. I have no clue what it is, but it's hiding in the shadows! The lights are all shutting off, it's following me! Just send help, please! I probably won't be alive when you get this message, but please respond to this message! Help us!"_

The message stopped abruptly, and the lieutenant looked over at the mercenary, who simply stood there with no emotion in his movements. "Is that all?" The lieutenant nodded, and stood there. The mercenary looked over at him slowly. "You drag my ass down here to see something that I already knew? What do you take me for lieutenant? A rookie?" Michael did his best to keep his cool, and refused to cower to the mercenary.

"My orders were to show you that, and to give you the pass card. If you have a problem with it, you can deal with the director."

"Maybe I will in my own way. Hand me the damn pass card, and I'll be out of here." As much as Michael would have liked that, he still had to do something. He started rapidly tapping on his panel, and all the doors locked around them. A slight red light came on, and he looked over at the mercenary, who still stood like he didn't have a care in the world. "May I ask to what you are doing here Lieutenant?"

"I'm just following orders here mercenary, which is what you will be doing from now on. I am your commanding officer now, and you will obey me on this mission." The other officers got up, and each reached for their sidearm. There was a total of twelve guns pointed at the mercenary, yet he still did not flinch.

"I do not obey you; I obey the contract; which had no mention of you in it." The mercenary's voice still calm. The lieutenant walked over to him, but not close enough that he could grab him.

"Well, there had been a change in the contract. It goes as follows: Upon completion of the mission, we will have armed guards waiting for you at the top to take away the clearance, and provide a mind wipe. You will be willing to do this, or you will be killed. Any questions?"

"Nope, typical AC bastard officer. You have no idea who you are dealing with."

"Even so, it doesn't matter; you will not get that code without me giving it to you." They stood there in silence for a moment, before a soft beeping came from the mercenary. He looked down at his wrist, and looked up at the lieutenant.

"As much as I would like to argue with you, I already have the code for all levels, and will be leaving now. Good luck with that whole trying to take over the contract thing."

The lieutenant's face was that of absolute shock as he looked at the mercenary's arm. He knew that he was not lying, and that he had just accomplished hacking their systems. How could that be, they had the best people looking over everything…The Lieutenant looked around to see everyone standing. He had forgotten that everyone's attention was focused on the mercenary. None of them would have guessed he would have hacked their computer. The Lieutenant put on his poker face, and pulled out his sidearm and aimed it at the mercenary. "You're still going nowhere!"

The mercenary slowly turned, and looked at him. "Someone of your age should at least know when to duck lieutenant." A small explosion ripped through the wall of the checkpoint, throwing the lieutenant and half his men to the ground. The other half were trying to recover from the shock. The mercenary, obviously unfazed, nimbly leapt out the hole. The security detail that had been on the other side had been tossed free, and were trying to pick themselves up. The mercenary walked calmly to the Dart, and strode up the ramp. The ramp closed, and within a few minutes, was gone from view.

Michael managed to pick himself up a few moments later, and looked around. The explosive had been a small one, but still had managed to damage several systems and injure a few of his men. He felt his forehead, and felt the warmth of blood. He pulled himself up to his panel, and was relieved to see that the systems had been saved from the explosion. He opened up a communication. A second later, the large Holo-panel lit up. On the panel was a small, bald man. He wore dark sunglasses, and his face was dead serious. He looked like he was old, but it couldn't be farther from the truth. "What is the situation?" The man asked without waiting for even a hello.

"He escaped with the codes; I wasn't able to put the detonator on it." The man looked cold and hard at the lieutenant, who gulped at the glaring sight at the man.

"In other words, you failed?" The man asked, tapping a few buttons off screen.

"Yes sir, but you see, this was no ordinary mercenary, he was highly trained and-" He was cut off abruptly when a few security detail personnel stormed in through the hole, and stood at attention behind him. He looked them over, and then his face went pale with fear. "No, you can't! I am a senior officer!"

"A senior officer who has failed a very important task. I'm very disappointed Michael, I thought you would be able to handle this little task." A flick off his hand, and the security personnel opened fire on everyone inside the Checkpoint. Within a matter of seconds, Michael and all his officers were either burning or disintegrating. The giant holo-screen shut off, and the soldiers walked calmly out of the checkpoint as if nothing had ever happened.

Grim looked calmly over the control panel of his Dart as he looked over the codes for the bunker he had managed to steal. He was now glad he had set his Dart to start hacking the checkpoint as soon as he entered it. He had a feeling something wasn't right the moment the lieutenant had shown up to greet him. Officers never met the guests themselves; they always sent someone else to greet the guests in case of assassinations.

Yet something still edged Grim. If they were willing to do that before the contract started, what else were they willing to do? What if he did the job but they refused to pay? None of that mattered now, he had enough money as it was, he was doing this to get back at them, not for the money. Grim shook his head, and wished he had this kind of sense when he was starting out. A few people would still be alive today if he was just a slight more patient. No, he shook his head again. If he dealt too much with the past, he would end up not being able to see the future. He needed to have a clear head about this. Screw the money, and screw the AC. He was in this to blackmail the bastards, and nothing else. The greatest reward would be to see the Republic Domains open fire on the AC, and hopefully weaken them enough for Liberty Legion to move in. The thought brought a rare smile to Grim's face. For now though, what ever was in the bunker, it was important. He needed his rest and his wits about him if he was going to get what he needed from down there. He set the Dart on autopilot, and went to the back. Lying on the hard wooden bench, he drifted into a light slumber.

A man sat in a high rise chair with his fingers interlocked; staring hard and long at the now black holo-screen. The fools had been stupid enough to let something with this much detail slip through their fingers, so that was what they had deserved. The man took a deep breathe, and pushed a button on his chair. "Send him in."

A few moments later, a tall man entered, sporting a black muscle shirt and snow camo baggy pants with too many pockets to count. On his back slung a red high powered Autorifle. His black skin stood out against the golden walls of the office as he strode forward, and his face looked like it was chiseled from stone. No emotion could be read from it. He walked quietly to about four feet from the chair, and knelt down, bowing his head to the man. The man turned his chair, and got up. Walking to the man, and putting a hand on the black man's shoulder. "Rise 4476." The man stood up silently, and stared into nothingness. The man walked back to his chair, and tapped a button. A picture came floating up to 4476. It showed a grey skull with red glowing eyes looking back at 4476. "This man, he was sent to do a mission. The fools at checkpoint 7 failed to upload the virus to the codes, and I now need your assistance. If he survives, kill him before he gets back to his headquarters, if he dies, burn his remains. He never existed, understand." 4476 nodded slowly, and headed for the door. He had a mission and a purpose now, he would not let his master down.

"Grim? Grim, you there?" A voice came from inside his head. He woke with a start, instinctively reaching for his pulse rifle, but stopped just short of the hilt. He rubbed his head slightly, and got up from the bench.

"What is it Grace, I was resting." Grim said in a voice that indicated he was obviously pissed at being awakened from his rest. Grace must have detected the hint of irritation in his voice.

"Well sorry for doing my job, but listen, like always I will be feeding you Intel on the mission objectives should they change, and possible schematics of the bunker, which you should be on top of by now." Grim walked to the cockpit to see that Grace was right; just below him stood the barely visible roof of the bunker. The Dart started to descend automatically, and a few moments later, the engines stopped, indicating that he had landed.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Listen, could you do me a favor, and not wake me up from now on? I'm getting tired just hearing your voice." There was a moment of silence, and for a second, he thought that Grace took him literally, and then she responded.

"You know what Grim? You're getting senile in your old age."

"That's what the others tell me."

"Anyways, you'll have to go deep down to get anything worthwhile on AC. Most likely, you'll have to go straight to the bottom, which I would be betting is around forty levels."

"Betting?"

"I don't have the schematics with me, that's your job. Get is done, and then you can get your money."

"I'm not going to get paid." Grim said, making his way to the ramp and hitting the switch to lower it. There was a moment of silence from the other end.

"What do you mean you're not getting paid?"

"An AC officer tried to hold me hostage so that I would cower to his demands. His demands including a mind wipe. The part that makes me thing he wasn't working alone was the fact that he said he was following orders." There was another pause.

"I'll get right on it. If something is happening within AC, I'll find out for you. For now, stick with the plan, and let's get it done." Grim nodded, and walked out the back of the Dart.

It was quite brisk outside, but inside his armor he couldn't feel it. The sun was high in the sky, and there were few clouds to be seen. All in all, it was a beautiful day. Too bad he was going to have to spend it inside. He closed the ramp, and walked to the bunker entrance. There was no lock on the door. Neither was there an eye scanner, or palm reader, or anything. The only way you could get in was with the codes that Grim now had in his possession. He pressed a few buttons on his wrist pad, and the door slid open very slowly. What he saw was not what he had expected.

Inside, blood was dripping from the ceiling and walls. Bodies littered the floor in a permanent state of despair and pain. Some bodies were torn beyond recognition, and others simply looked like they had curled up and died. Whatever had done this to these men, he had not seen it before. His bad feeling about the mission went up another ten notches. "Grace, are you getting this."

"My god, what could have possible done anything like this?"

"Cross check for known weapons, maybe we'll be able to link it to another territory."

"Checking…Nothing. There is absolutely nothing that could have done this to these men." Grim walked forward, and turned a corpse on its back. The entire body was covered by blood, and his jaw was open in an endless scream. Grim looked at the hands, and then at the face.

"No known weapon did this because these men did this to themselves."

"What?! That's impossible!"

"You're seeing exactly what I'm seeing. See the scrapings on the fingers?" Grim said pointing the corpse's hand. He then pointed to the eyes, mouth, and ears. "He ripped at them in some sort of crazed lunacy. What could have caused these men to do this is beyond me. I've seen a lot of creepy shit and nothing has ever made me want to scrape out my own eyeballs."

"I can't believe this. Something terrible must have happened here."

"You mean you just figured that out?" Before Grace could respond, there was a slam behind him. He whirled around, pulse rifle at the ready, and found that the door had closed on him. Not like it really mattered, he was here for awhile anyways. When he turned around did he only realize what the lighting had done to the place. The lighting cast such shadows that it looked like men were screaming on the walls. He looked around to find similar shadows all around him, yet there was nothing casting him.

"My God…" Was all Grace could say. Grim walked to one of the shadows, and placed his hand on it. Nothing happened, but he could feel warmth even under his armor. Something was seriously wrong with this place, and he knew he was going to see a lot more before it came to the end.

The room was quite small actually, with only one lonely elevator working at the end of the room. The doors were closed, and he walked over and pressed the down button. Upon opening, a single item lay on the floor; an AC soldier's helmet. He picked it up, and looked it over. The glass was smashed from an impact on the wall, but other than that it looked in good condition. He slipped a small disk from the helmet, and placed it in his wrist computer. From there, a visual recording came up as a holographic display on his arm. Grim recognized it as the soldier who had sent the distress signal.

He sat there for some time watching the soldier go through his madness before finally throwing the helmet into the elevator. The hologram shut down, and the disk ejected from the computer. Grim slid the disk into a pouch on his waist in case this could be used to blackmail AC. He already knew he wasn't getting paid, might as well get some dirt. "I am at a complete blank as to what that was about. AC must be doing something big here Grim."

"Since you like to point out the obvious, why don't you also tell me I have gray hair?"

"You have gray hair."

"I was being sarcastic."

"I know."

Grim just shook his head and moved into the elevator. Where ever this thing was going to take him, he had a really bad feeling about it. He pushed a button, and the elevator doors closed, and moved downwards.


	4. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The elevator bound down in a silent freefall. It seemed like there was nothing holding it back from dropping, for it just went farther and farther down. Grim just stood there, however, unfazed by how long it was taking at the speed he was going. He knew that if anything was of worth down here, it would be far down. Finally, the elevator came to a sudden stop, forcing Grim to flex his knees from the impact. Grim raised his rifle, and the door opened to reveal an empty hallway. There was nothing there, nothing but the silent lights and the shadow-less hall. He walked forward a couple of feet, out of the elevator. The doors shut behind him, and he double checked to make sure nothing was there.

"You there Grace?" He asked in a very calm tone.

"Yeah, I'm here. This is not right…If the top level was like that, then shouldn't the same have happened here?"

"I was trying to answer the same thing, but nothing comes to mind. Got anything for me?"

"Yes, while you were riding down, I managed to pull some schematics on the place. It's only basics, like the layout of the first fifty levels, and then the rest is blacked out, top clearance."

"Wait a minute, the first fifty levels? Exactly how far down does this place go?"

"Around two hundred and fifty."

"In other words, I'm have a hell of a lot of walking to do don't I?"

"Yep."

"Stop sounding so cheerful about it. Let me know when you find out what's going up with AC. Grim out."

Grim cut contact with Grace, and moved down the hall very slowly. There was something just wrong with this place. He didn't know what, but it was that feeling that you just know something is wrong. Like, why were the soldiers on the first level all bloody and broken, yet there wasn't a single soul down here? Grim just shrugged, that was his job to find out what happened. At the end of the hall, it branched off into three different directions.

Grim whipped out his wrist computer and looked at the schematics that Grace had downloaded to it. To his left led to the armory for this level, to the center led straight to the control center, and to the right led to the barracks. Grim decided without hesitating to head for the barracks. Maybe he could find some sort of letter or video that explained what happened here. A few moments after he started walking down the right path, he heard a tap behind him. He flipped around with speed casual to twenty year olds, and brought his weapon to bear in a very controlled fashion. Yet, there was nothing. Something had just made that noise, but he didn't know what. He lowered his weapon slowly, and started walking again; keeping a close eye on his six.

After walking for about five minutes in a straight line and no further incidents, he came upon his first set of doors. He walked up to it, inputted the code, and the door opened. Inside, there were a couple bunk beds on opposite sides of the room, between them at the wall was a small desk for paper work, and on the wall closest to the door was a vid screen. The problem that Grim had with the place was that it was too neat. All army grunts never bothered too much about neatness unless it came to their weapons. Everything was in tip top shape; there was not a single thing out of place. The beds were made, the desk was clean, and the vid screen even had a new-bought look on it. Grim walked in, his weapon held casually, but ready to move at a moment's notice. He looked around. There had not been a human being in this room for close to a few days at least, other wise they would have made a mistake in cleaning it. Grim looked under the bunk, and pulled out a small safe. He didn't have the code for it, so he simply shot it once with his pulse rifle, and the lid popped open.

The sound of the laser echoed on for what seemed like miles. It just seemed to be there forever, and Grim waited until he could no longer hear it. That was reckless, but if there was something in here, he didn't want to have to play hide and seek with it. He looked in the safe, and pulled out a single item. It was another disk, but this one looked scratched, like it had been saved from destruction. He slipped it into his wrist computer, and a blurry letter came up on his holo-display. He read the letter with growing interest.

_Graham's log_

_Date: I don't remember_

_Another one came up from the bottom again. This one worse than the rest we have seen before. This guy looked like he would shoot himself the first chance he got without hesitation. I'll never get that crazed look out of my mind. It will never go away. It was like looking into the eyes of an empty soul. Oh forgive me father, for I have seen the Devil's hatred, and purge me of my sins for I have many-_

A part of it was unintelligible, so he went down to the next part where he could read. It was just the last few lines of the letter.

_-They said it was nothing, that the random noises we keep hearing are just figments of our imagination. Well they're not! They were too loud and clear to be not real! Ever since the director showed up, things have gone to shit in here. First chance I get, I'm getting the fuck out of here, and getting back to being my lazy ass self._

The rest was too blurred to even comprehend. So Grim slid the disk out, and put it in the same pouch with the other one. So the director had been here, but at what time? The soldier obviously had been down here a long time since he couldn't even remember the date. Things were getting strange here. What was down in the lower levels? Why were people coming up from there with crazed looks? What was with the random noises? Grim had way too many questions, and not enough answers. He was a mercenary, not some private eye. He got up, and turned towards the door. He had a lot more digging to do.

After entering a few more bunks, he found that they got identical to the first without the half burned letter in them. There was nothing but neatness in it, and to be honest, it was starting to freak him out. Then his comm. snapped to life.

"Grim? I found something within AC."

"Yeah, are you going to tell me, or are we going to play twenty questions?"

"It's not much, but over the past two months, they have been doubling their unit reserves, and are pumping money into steel and motor parts for vehicles."

"In other words, they're getting ready to attack?"

"I don't know, they've been doing it so thinly over their territory that at first glance, it doesn't look like anything. However, when you add it up…"

"You get a sizable army. Alright, that is something. Anything else?"

"Nothing so far, we're waiting to make sure that this is what AC is doing before we ring any bells in the Republic. The last thing we want is to make them think we wanted them weak and have them go after us."

"Alright, well I found a letter, I'll send it to you and you see if you can get anything out of it. Grim out."

Grim shut off his comm. and sent the file of the half destroyed letter to Grace. Hopefully she would be able to get something out of it better than he did. As he continued walking, the hallway again turned into the door-less and the window-less walkway. It felt uncomfortable with only one way to go, and no cover. Then he heard the same tap from before, and whirled around again like before. Just like the first time, there was nothing there. This was just getting to the point where he expected some freakish monster from the movies to come hurling at him. He sighed, and started walking again.

About ten minutes had passed before the first split in the hallway came. One was a door, and the other was another passageway to hell knows where. He went to the door, and opened it. Inside there was a series of vid-screens and computers off to the left, and even more vid-screens off to the right. This was the control center for this level. He went to the computer, and tapped a few buttons. The vid-screen came online, and showed the numerous cameras for this level. Currently, there was nothing on them; which is what he expected. He went back to about a day before, and soldiers were milling around just as if they were just there. He skimmed through cameras for up to an hour before the first action happened at about midnight. Lights randomly started flicking off around the soldiers, and the soldiers that were caught in the darkness simply disappeared when the lights came back on. It kept happening until all the soldiers on the level were gone. Grim rubbed the chin of his helmet, and fast forward the tapes to about ten minutes ago. He saw himself walking down the halls, and then came the tapping noise. He saw himself whirl around, but nothing was there. Then something caught his eye. A soldier, moving in one of the cameras very slowly, with his arms held at his side. Like he was in a dream or something.

Grim quickly went to the cameras at the very moment, but there was nothing moving. The cameras were too strategically placed to not see anyone moving, but it was on there. Someone had been on the cameras and he had seen it. Not just ten minutes ago had they passed. He looked around, and found a communications booth. He went to it, and flicked a switch, but nothing came on. He flicked it again, but with the same results. He looked behind it, to find that the wires had been very neatly cut in such a way there was no way he could repair them without more equipment. He looked at the camera location, and marked it in his schematics so it came up as a blue dot. It was clear on the other side of the level, but that didn't matter. If there was a survivor, he would find him and find out what the hell happened here. He marched out of the room, and started a leisurely jog towards the destination.

After jogging for about fifteen minutes through endless hallways, he came to the spot that the camera had seen the soldier. He saw the blue dot of a camera up in the corner, but other than that saw nothing but endless hallway. He knew his eyes had not been betraying him, but there had been someone here. Then he noticed something. Every other light in the bunker he had seen so far had been working perfectly, but the lights here were flickering and casting a near reddish glow. He looked up at the lights, but they seemed normal. He walked cautiously down the hallway, but the hallway seemed to stretch on. He started running, but no matter how fast he ran he never got any closer. Then he felt it more than saw it.

He felt breath on his shoulder, but when he looked there was nothing. Then he would feel a hand on his shoulder when nothing was there. He tapped his communicator.

"Grace, Grace you there!?" The response he got was less than welcome.

There was a screeching sound on his comm. to the point where he wanted to rip off his helmet, then a very raspy and deep voice could be heard among the screeching. "Though you can not see us, we can see you." Then there was a flash, and he found himself standing in the same hall, but the lights were no longer flickering or casting the reddish glow. He looked around for a moment, not believing what had just happened. In all his years as a mercenary, he had never felt something like that.

"Yeah Grim, what do you want?"

Grim almost didn't hear her, but then snapped back. "Grace, I don't care what you have to do, find out what they were doing in this God forsaken place! Don't give me excuses, just get it done!"

"Why, what's wro-"

"Do not question it, just get it done. Grim out."

With that, he stopped talking to her. He didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. He looked at his schematics for the next elevator, and started running. Few things creeped him out, and this one had just topped the list. Yet, as he continued running, he got the feeling he was heading the wrong way. He stopped, and double checked his wrist computer to find that his schematics were slowly fading away. He slammed his wrist computer. He tapped his comm. unit.

"Grace, my wrist computer is frying; can you tell me where the elevator is on this level…Grace, you there?"

All he got in return was nothing. Not even a click to say she had even heard of him. Now he was cut off. He had no one to talk to, nothing to guide him, and not a clue as to what the hell was happening here. He could run around for ages in this level and not get to where he wanted to go. He started running anyways. Sooner or later, it would lead him to somewhere, anywhere other than here. The walls seemed to reach for him as he ran, and he felt the same breath from before, except this time he did not look back. He could see the elevator just ahead of him. He didn't know which elevator it was, but he was seriously hoping that it would be up. Then he heard the tap from behind him again. He risked a glance backwards to see nothing but the lights systematically shutting off. Then he remembered the videos, and doubled his efforts to get to the elevator.

The lights however, seemed as though they were getting faster. They seemed to be catching up to him, but he only had a few feet to go. He ran his hardest, and dived into the elevator. He got up quickly, and pressed the button. The doors closed, and he breathed a sigh of relief, until he felt the elevator drop. He tried to press the button to go back, but it didn't respond. He nearly started panicking, and then got a hold of himself. He was Grim, one of the most senior mercenaries at Liberty Legion. If he couldn't do this, then who could. He breathed in nice and slow, until he was fully calm. Whatever was doing this was something he could handle anyways. He had handled the Great War, he could handle this. He let the rifle rest on his shoulder as he steeled himself against what might come out of the elevator doors.


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Grace walked into Mr. Neal's office very cautiously, as a child would move so as not to wake the sleeping parent. She stopped moving about five feet from the desk and waited. Neal was on several phones at once, trying to find out what was going on with AC, and why no one else had noticed. Finally, he hung up the last phone, and clasped his hands together. He looked down for a moment before placing his clasped hands on the table at looking at Grace with the red implants. "What is it this time Grace?" His voice was irritable at best, and Grace knew to step very carefully when her dad was in this sort of mood. She bit her lower lip, and sent the holo-sheet to his computer. He scanned it through, and nodded, then looked to her, waiting for more.

"That is a message Grim managed to find fifty levels down in the bunker. I haven't been able to repair it, the damage was too severe, but it proves that something was going on in that bunker."

"Yes Grace, I was able to piece that together on my own without the help of this letter. They wouldn't be offering this amount of money on some sort of milk run. Anything of importance?"

Grace looked down, and spoke very softly. "Well, there is one more thing." She stopped, and waited for him to wave his hand to continue. She took a deep breath, and t hen continued. "I've lost all contact with Grim." Had Mr. Neal had real eyes, they would have widened to the size of dish plates, for he stood up, and walked around the desk towards her.

"Are you absolutely positive about this? The last time Grim lost contact, and entire city block was destroyed." Grace did not meet his gaze, and simply shook her head. He put his hand over his mouth, and made his way to his desk. He tapped a button. "Tiger! Jacob! Get your asses to my office now!" He released the button and made his way to Grace again. "Here is what I want you to do. I want you to keep scanning for any sign of Grim, even the slightest hint of him. Also, I want all combat vehicles prepped and ready to launch at a moment's notice. If what the sheets are saying is true, then we're going to have a war on our hands, I just want to be ready, understood?" Grace nodded her head, and made her way out of the office.

A couple minutes later, as she was working at her desk in front of the office, one man came up. His armor striped orange and black, with red whiskers on the face plate and yellow eyes. His armor was scarred, and looked in dire need of repair. However, if one were to look closely, it was perfectly fine. It was of the same design of Grim's, with tight fitting double layered flexi-fit material along with a pulse rifle slung across his back. This was Tiger. He wasn't exactly the biggest man around, nor was he the strongest. The thing that set him apart from the others was his utter desire to get the job done no matter what the cost. As it had been said about him, he had the heart of the tiger. He was one of the nicer guys, and maybe a little too flirtatious with the ladies. Personally, Grace didn't like him that much. As he walked by, he gave a nod to her. "How's it going good looking?" He said in a moderate toned voice.

Grace didn't even bother to look up from her station. "Going fine Tiger go right ahead." He just shrugged, and placed his hand on the pad. The door opened nearly instantly, and he was inside. A few minutes later, another man came flying up the grav-lift. He was in no terms dressed like the other mercenaries. Unlike the others, he wore an olive green muscle shirt which outlined his muscular feature. A bandana was drawn across his mouth cowboy robber style, and he had faded blue jeans that slumped a bit at his feet. What else set him apart was the giant tube like weapon strapped to his back. The weapon being a T46 anti-vehicle weapon, or better known as the Boomstick. This one was Jacob. Jacob was simply one word; cocky. He liked to think he was one of the best at Liberty Legion, until he met Grim. He challenged Grim to an old fashioned fight in the arena, where Grim finished him in ten seconds flat. From there, he had to admit he wasn't better than Grim, and that was a major blow to his ego. That's not saying he wasn't good, he just took it to heart a little too much. He landed with his knees slightly bent due to the extra weight of the Boomstick, and walked with utter confidence towards the door. "Tiger already in there Grace?"

"Yep, you better get in there as well." He just nodded, and planted his hand on the pad. A moment later he was in and the door shut behind them. Grace simply continued to check for any sign of Grim, but nothing came up. Ten minutes went by, then Tiger and Jacob both came striding out of the room. Without saying a word to Grace, they went to the grav-lift, and went down. Mr. Neal then came stepping very slowly out of his office, and stood right before the entrance to his office. He clasped his hands behind his back, and stood at ease for a moment. He then turned to Grace, and simply shook his head. He strode back into his office, and the doors closed behind him.

The elevator doors opened, and Grim's gun poked out first. The lights were on, and the entire level looked no different from that of the others; just the same the entire way through. It even seemed even as though they had the same layout. Grim made his way at a jog through the hundredth level of the bunker. He still had at least another three elevators to go through, and that was enough for him. This place was freaking him out more than the Russian Nuclear Plant in Samara.

As he jogged, he could not get that feeling out of him that something was looking over his shoulder. No matter what he did, he felt the presence, even though he looked back numerous times and saw nothing. He no longer cared about the details of the level, he simply wanted to get the job done as fast as possible, and that meant getting to the elevator. As he jogged however, the halls seemed to stretch yet again, but he steeled himself, and didn't allow himself to feel fear. Eventually the halls stopped stretching, and he continued.

There was a burst of static on his comm. set, enough so that he grabbed his head again. Except this time, there was a distorted, almost demonically sounding voice. "Well well well, I didn't expect to see you here." Grim looked around slightly, but all he saw was hallways.

"Who are you, and how the hell did you hack into my comm. network?" There was nothing but a horse sounding laugh on the other end.

"I simply wish it, and it is so. Do you really think I am restricted by the mere fabric of technology? Such ignorance…"

"Who the fuck are you?"

"A lot more familiar then you think, by the way, watch your step." Grim looked down to see a hole the size of a crater where he was just about to step. He stopped and doubled back. There was another deep sounding laugh, then the static, and then nothing. Grim looked down the hole, but could see no end. The edges of the hole were perfectly rounded, this hole wasn't man made. Grim looked up to see that the hole seemed to stretch on and on, and that he would have to find another way around. He went to turn back, only to see that another hole had formed behind him. He was trapped, and the hole seemed to be getting bigger. Not only that, there seemed to be something in the hole, maybe it was his imagination, but he thought he saw something move in the shadows. He had to get a good look in there.

Grim flicked on his night vision, but even with the added effect of the sight, he wasn't able to penetrate the darkness. He whipped out his gun, and turned on the flashlight. He aimed it down at the hole, and there was an earsplitting scream. The hole seemed to move back, away from the light. Grim looked at the flashlight, then shone it down into the hole again, the hole shied away from the light. He turned it around, and aimed it at the hole in front of him. He kept the flashlight on, and kept it aimed at the hole in front of him so he could continue forward. It was slow, but at least he was moving. He kept going at this pace at what seemed like forever, until finally he caught sight of the next elevator, and breathed a sigh of relief. The hole disappeared completely, and that's when Grim hesitated. The hole had been there the entire time, why did it decide to leave now? Then the static returned, followed by a 'tsk tsk' sound. Then the demonic voice returned.

"I have to admit, you are clever at finding out the obvious, but if you think we're going to let you get all the way down there, then you are severely mistaken."

"What the hell do you mean by that asshole?"  
"Aw, you've barely met me and already you're calling me an asshole. You'll see soon enough." Another deep laugh, then the static returned and all was silent. Grim stood there for a moment, waiting to see what would happen, but nothing did. He took a couple steps forward, and paused. He searched everywhere he could, but found nothing. He then continued walking forward, and just two feet from the elevator, all the lights shut off. Grim looked around frantically, and two words escaped his mouth.

"Aw shit…"

Tiger and Jacob both exited from the grav-lift, and walked with a purpose towards the garage section of the Blood Barracks, and walked over to one of the many Darts ready for lift off. Tiger came up to the main technician, Troy, and slapped him on the back. "Hey T, wassup?" Troy just grumbled and continued to work on the panel under the Dart. Tiger shrugged, and got to the point. "Which Dart is ready to go?" Troy stopped, and ripped off his mask in annoyance, showing his metallic and organic implants fully.

"They're all ready dumbass! If you had paid attention in 'Looking Around 101', you would know that." Jacob stepped in.

"And if you want to stay away from another surgery table, you better well tell us metal head!" Troy looked at him angrily.

"What did you call me?" Tiger stepped between them.

"Enough, I asked a simple question, which you obviously don't want to answer. I guess we'll just grab any ol' Dart and be on our way."

"Yeah, you do that, just get out of my face." Troy replaced his mask, and went back to repairing the panel muttering something about wanting harassment compensation. Tiger glanced at Jacob, who simply shrugged.

"He needs to learn his place."

"Just like you need to learn yours, without him, we wouldn't have any of these vehicles, you remember that." Jacob shrugged again, and they made their way to one of the Darts in the back. Tiger punched in a code, and the back door opened. They made their way in.

Unlike Grim's Dart, this one was the standard company Dart. It was colored blue and gold with a gold tint on the cockpit. Inside were a couple of bunks, a drink dispenser, first aid equipment, and extra weapons. There was also a small vid-screen for receiving incoming signals from Mr. Neal or any of the other mercenaries. Jacob hit a button and the door closed behind them. Tiger went to checking his equipment, while Jacob made his way to the cockpit. They had worked together before, and it was obvious Jacob was the better pilot and worked better alone. He checked the controls, and made sure all systems were green. Then, with confirmation from the bay controllers, they were rocketing out of the tower towards were Grim had last been seen.

Grim looked around slowly, trying to physically open the elevator doors to no avail. He scanned his flashlight back and forth frantically, looking for anything that could possibly help him, but there was nothing. His weapon went back and forth, the light from the gun spraying over the walls only a couple meters in front of him. Then the sound of breathing came from farther down the hall. He directed his flashlight towards it, but saw nothing. The place was too dark for even his flashlight to get more than a couple meters from it.

The breathing got louder, and Grim pressed himself up against the elevator doors. Whatever was out there, he was sure he didn't want to see it. The breathing was so loud now that he could swear it was right behind him. He closed his eyes for a moment, and took a deep breath, he would get through this, and he would not fail his mission. Then he listened for a second, and the breathing was gone. Eerie silence filled the hall, but Grim could tell that whatever was out there. He felt his hand forward, and came into contact with something, but it wasn't the wall. He pointed the flashlight up, and looked up slowly in the eyes of something that would forever be stitched into his mind.

The creature was so black that the outline of the thing was lost in the darkness. All that could be seen was its eyes and its teeth; row after row of endless sharp teeth that were twisted upwards in what could have passed for a smile. What really got Grim's attention were its eyes. He was not sure if you could even call them eyes, for there was no pupil or iris. Instead, it was like a red oval with screaming faces in it. He could see men, women, and children all crying in pain through this thing's eyes, and he feared that he would never forget that picture in his mind. He was so shocked at this thing that he completely froze. The creature stared down at him, and went right to eye level with him. They stared at each other for a moment before he felt movement from the creature. He shifted right, and barely avoided the giant claws on the creature. The creature gave a scream that sounded like twenty people all crying in pain at the same time. Grim raised his weapon, and fired. The bullets whizzing through the air made the whole fight seem like a stop motion movie. He managed to get a glimpse of the outline of the creature, and found that it was wavy, like it didn't have a permanent figure. He didn't care; he just wanted this thing dead.

The creature lunged forward, and Grim shifted to the left. The blades came dangerously close to him as they scratched his armor. He switched his rifle to the other hand, and unsheathed the Penetrator; switching his rifle to the shotgun attachment at the same time, made a lunge for the creature. The shotgun lit up the hall, and the Penetrator lit up like a firecracker. The burst from the shotgun hit the creature dead on, and stunned it for a brief moment, just long enough for Grim to hit the thing with his knife. It plunged deep into the creature, but instead of scream, it sounded like it gave a sigh of relief. He slid the knife down the creature's torso, until the thing had been split in half. A great rush of air escaped from the creature, followed by a giant sigh of relief. Suddenly the lights flickered on again. Grim had to cover his eyes from the light at first, but as soon as they adjusted he looked around for the body of the creature. He found nothing but an empty hall.

There was a ding behind him, and the elevator doors opened. He took one last glance around, and entered the elevator. He still had another three elevators to go, might as well keep moving.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

The Dart raced across the landscape, intent on getting to its goal. It's goal being the last known whereabouts of senior mercenary Lucius Callisto. The two men inside the dart milled around, almost at ease as the dart flew just below supersonic speeds. As the aircraft flew by, a lone figure looked up into the sky to see the Dart slow down. The figure hunched over, and ran towards the craft at stunning speed, but without sound. Whoever these people were in the aircraft, they were in the way of his objective.

The dart slowed down to a stop, and parked just in front of the opening to the bunker. Just off to the side was another dart, the black and red painting making it immediately recognizable as Grim's personal aircraft. Tiger and Jacob stepped out cautiously, weapons at the ready as they exited the vehicle. They looked over the landscape, and once deeming it safe, exited fully from the craft. They walked over to Grim's personal Dart, and gave it the once over. Jacob stood there, scratching his head. "Well, his dart is completely fine…if someone was out to get him, wouldn't they have destroyed his transportation?"

"One would think so." Tiger responded, somehow unsure of their current situation. He wasn't used to being in the relative open like he was right now, and something just didn't feel right. "Why don't you try to get into the bunker, I'll contact Mr. Neal, and tell him what we've found so far." Jacob nodded, and Tiger made his way off to the side. Jacob preferred to work without distraction, and Tiger knew that. He tapped his comm. and a few seconds later the familiar voice of Mr. Neal came on.

"What have you found so far Tiger?"

"Well sir, we found his Dart, which is in pristine condition considering Grim is flying it. Other than that, what was read on the report is true, the bunker is in the middle of nowhere on the border of Republic dominated territory. We're working on getting into the bunker as we speak." Tiger looked off into the distance again, looking up at the sky.

"Alright, the moment you find out anything more, you let me know, understood?"

"Yes sir, out." Tiger cut the communication, and walked back over to Jacob, who was still working on the door. "How deep of an encryption?"

"Too fucking deep!" Jacob retorted, trying his best to unlock the door. "It was like, once you got in, you didn't get out kind of encryption. I'm telling you, this is hardcore stuff right here. Whatever is in this place, they want it kept a secret." Tiger nodded.

"Any chance of blowing the door?"

"Not a chance in hell my friend. This is grade A material here. A damn BallWing couldn't punch a hole in this stuff." Tiger simply nodded.

"Alright, let me know when you're done, I'm going in the dart and see if there is anything we can use to open it."

"I doubt it, but sure." Jacob said, and returned to trying to get the door open. Tiger walked back, and paused for a moment. Something was not right; they had just flown over AC controlled territory, and had not once been asked to identify themselves. He was about to turn around and ask Jacob about that when an object came flying out of the air, and landed directly at his feet. It started beeping rapidly, and Jacob turned around.

"Grenade!" Tiger yelled, and kicked with all his might before diving back. The grenade flew back, and exploded, sending out exploding shards which detonated on contact with anything. Tiger and Jacob managed to get behind their dart, and were unharmed by the grenade.

"Where the hell did that come from?" Jacob asked, pulling out a Rip Jack.

"I have no clue, but someone is out to get us. How much you want to bet its AC?"

"Can I bet my life savings?" Tiger tried to look up, and a heavy round passed just inches from his face. He dived back down, and looked to Jacob.

"Alright, so he has a sniper, and we have no clue as to where he is. You know what to do." Jacob nodded, and holstered his Rip Jack in place of his Boomstick. He made sure the safety was off, and that it was loaded, and then wheeled about. Without really checking where he was aiming, let off a round, and went back. Another round shot where Jacob had been just a moment ago, but that was enough. Tiger went behind cover as well. "Third hill on the right, we need to close the gap!" Jacob nodded, and reloaded his Boomstick. He took a moment to get a breather, and wheeled around again. He fired, and an explosion sounded through the quiet air. A plume of dirt and smoke lit up the third hill, and then it was silent again. Tiger looked up, but was not confident he had gotten him. Suddenly, something grabbed him from the back, and had enough strength to whip him into the barracks which was a good twenty feet away.

Tiger hit his head hard on the bunker door, and lights clouded his vision. He looked up to see a monster of a man standing in front of him. His face an emotionless void, and his muscles twice the size of his. The man lifted him up with on hand, and brought him up to his face. He pulled out a knife, and was about to plunge it into his chest when a blade came from behind him, and stabbed his shoulder, sending blue blood spraying everywhere. The man dropped Tiger, who delivered a devastating kick to his chest upon landing. The man stumbled back, but recovered with amazing speed. He wheeled around, and dodged another round from the Rip Jack. Jacob dove to the right, barely avoiding the blade from the giant man. Tiger took out his pulse rifle, aimed, and fired.

The man seemed to dodge nearly all the beams. It seemed as if the world for him was in slow motion, and he saw the lasers before they actually got to him. However, he was not quick enough to dodge all the lasers, and took three in the chest. Now, while that would have dropped an ordinary man in armor, this man shrugged off the damage, and threw the blade at Tiger. Tiger twitched, and that twitch probably saved his life. The blade was coming for his head, but when he twitched, it slammed into his shoulder with so much forced that it dislocated his shoulder. He grunted in pain, and flew to the ground. The man then went after Jacob, and literally threw the mercenary over the dart and hard on the ground. He followed up with a few punches strong enough to break Jacob's jaw, and knock him unconscious. The man came over to Tiger, who was desperately trying to raise his pulse rifle at the man. He simply swatted the gun away, and threw him into the wall. Then he picked Tiger up once again, and held him up high, and pulled back his fist as if he was going to kill him by simply bashing his face in. Before this could happen though, a bright flash enveloped the man, and Tiger was thrown wildly from his grip, landing hard, and breaking his left arm on the landing. He managed to look up to see Jacob leaning against the Dart with his Boomstick in hand. Tiger looked over at what remained of the man, and couldn't believe that one man could do that.

Jacob stumbled over, and sat down, his jaw hanging limply. He attempted to slam it back in place to no avail. Tiger hit his comm. unit again, and Mr. Neal's voice came on. "Yes Tiger, what is it?"

"Sir, you would have to see it to believe it."

The elevator slowed down once more, and Grim was greeted once again to the endless white hallways. It seemed that no matter how far he went down, the scenery never changed. He walked out cautiously, weapon at the ready, and jogging to get to the next elevator. He didn't want to stay here any longer than necessary. The lights flickered, but remained on. Then the deep demonic voice came back. "So, you managed to kill one, congratulations! You definitely got farther than the rest did. Unfortunately, that was one fresh from making. Barely five minutes old."

"What the hell was that thing?" Grim asked, his voice slightly frightened, but more annoyed than anything.

There was a deep sounding laughter, and then it answered. "It is a collection of souls that were supposed to have passed on, but captured for further use. All put together in the same body which is created from shadows, and manipulated to the controller's will. We like to call them Dirr'kens."

"I don't give a shit what you call them! How the hell could someone do that?"

"Why, with a smile on their face of course! It is actually quite enjoyable to hear them scream."

"You sick bastard!"

"I'll take that as a compliment. However, as what to do with you, I really don't know. It is quite enjoyable watching you try to get down to the lowest level, but I can't let you get there. That would just fuck everything up."

"So what are you going to do then?"

"Why don't you look down?"

Grim looked down to see he was no longer walking on…anything! There was a giant hole beneath him, and he started to plummet down into the darkness, which quickly overwhelmed him. He just fell from what seemed stories, until he finally came in contact with something soft.

There was a giant squish as he landed, and everything was soft to the touch. It still was quite dark, but he managed to get his pulse rifles light on, and look at what he landed on. What he had landed on was a giant heap of dead mutilated bodies. They all had their torso ripped open, and all the internal organs had been ripped out viciously. He recoiled back, and started to fall again, fall down the huge mountain of bodies. He landed hard against his back, but was up quickly, and scanning the surrounding area. The entire area had a reddish glow to it, and Grim thought it was the lighting, until he looked up.

He was outside, and the entire land had a reddish glow to it. The moon was much closer, so close you could see the smallest crater on it. The entire land was dead, there was no grass, there were no trees, and there were no buildings. There was nothing but this giant heap of bodies. Grim tried to breath for a moment, and gagged as his rebreather sucked in the stench of rotting bodies. He walked around the bodies, in disbelief that someone or something could possibly do this to another. Then he noticed it. In the distance, there was a small platform. Since he had no other bearing, that's where he started going.

About halfway there, he got this incredible feeling of doom. Figures could be seen at the platform, but Grim had no intention of wanting to meet them. However, as he walked, he seemed to be getting there faster than he had wanted to. Until he finally tried to stop, and the platform still seemed to be getting closer. He tried going backwards, but it still got closer, until the platform was right at his feet.

The platform was quite big, nearly as big as a building without walls or stories, simply the floor. Grim walked onto the platform very carefully, and then everything happened from there. As soon as he came within contact of the platform, men on pikes appeared, screaming in agony. A few others were kept in a cage, and a few others were being eaten by what the demonic voice had called Dirr'kens. Grim looked up to see a lone figure in white standing with his back to him on another smaller platform. He started walking forward, trying to ignore the screams and stench, but nothing could be done. He started gagging until he finally turned on his own air. At least this would by him up to three hours free from the stench. As he walked closer, he stopped just short of the pedestal. A deep sounding laugh could be heard, and Grim recognized it as the demon thing that had been talking to him earlier.

"How do you like my home Grim? Stylish, is it not?"

"You sick perverted bastard!"

"Aw come now, your making me blush."

"Why don't you turn around so I have a clear bead on your head." Grim raised his weapon, waiting to see if the man would turn around. The man laughed, and sighed.

"If you insist."

The man turned around, and Grim's jaw dropped. His weapon dropped from his hand, and he stared up at the man. He stared up…

At himself.


End file.
